


Let Me Take Your Soul

by turbulentsky



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age II
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 14:17:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4224939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turbulentsky/pseuds/turbulentsky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris looked up at Anders, into the mage’s eyes, and found it strange that he could never see Anders as a person until what made him himself was gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Take Your Soul

No one had seen Anders in days. This wasn’t exactly surprising, seeing as they had all decided to give the mage some space after the disaster that was confronting Ser Alrik. Hawke managed to talk him out of leaving then, but maybe while they were away, he had changed his mind. It made sense, Anders could never stop himself from helping others, and the light at the clinic had been out for several days. And when Hawke finally gave up on waiting and forced the door open, Anders was gone. 

The reason for Anders’ departure didn’t worry Fenris much. He was content as long as he didn’t have to listen to the mage’s ramblings of the plight of mages in the circle. Unluckily for Fenris, though, Hawke didn’t feel the same. In fact, that was why they were here now, searching for clues as to where the man had gone in the dingy clinic. 

“The abomination realized he was a danger and fled, this pursuit is pointless,” Fenris commented, not for the first time. All he received was a glare from Hawke, who had given up snapping at Fenris’ complaints. It had been a long day, and as Fenris predicted, nothing came from their searching. All they had discovered was Anders left everything he owned behind, placed as if he had only gone for a day. It worried Hawke and Varric, and even Merrill, though she and the other mage hadn’t exactly gotten along. Fenris hoped they wouldn’t find Anders, and didn’t much care about the type of person that made him. Anders was an abomination, a ticking time bomb, and Fenris didn’t want to be there for the inevitable explosion. He was a mage and an extremist, he would not let anything keep him from his goal. Perhaps it was better he was gone, or dead. It would save the people of Kirkwall a lot of future pain. 

But, as always, it didn’t work out the way Fenris wanted, and they saw Anders in high town the very next day. His back was turned to them, and he wasn’t wearing his usual robes, which was the first sign something was off. His staff was missing too, but only Fenris seemed to notice these things, the rest of the group too caught up in relief that the mage was alive and well. 

“Anders, where have you been?” Hawke called out, quickly walking over to the mage. Fenris followed them at a more leisurely pace, glancing around to make sure it wasn’t an ambush. There was always someone in Kirkwall that wanted Hawke dead. Hawke always managed to make enemies, it was part of his charm.

“Anders?” Hawke asked, the change in his voice and the fact that he froze making Fenris drag his eyes back to the scene in front of him. It took him a moment to realize what he was seeing, and he, too, nearly froze in the same horror that had struck Hawke. 

“Anders, what happened?” Hawke asked, though it was obvious to all of them. 

“The templars found me, I was too dangerous before. I am better now,” the man said, the man that could barely be referred to as Anders. Anders had had so much emotion and passion when he talked, the man standing in front of them was empty. 

“Oh no,” Fenris heard Merrill mumble, seeing her take a step forward and reach a hand out tentatively then hurriedly retract it, almost as if she was afraid of the man in front of her. And maybe she was, knowing that this is what would happen to her, if she was taken in by the templars. That, or death. No one took pity on a blood mage. The usual feeling of hate, that the templars would be right to do such a thing to her didn’t come. When faced with the reality, it was hard to think the naive elf deserved such a fate. 

“Blondie…” came from where Varric was standing, but Fenris did not turn around to look. He had never heard the dwarf at a loss for words before. 

“We can fix this,” Hawke’s voice drove Fenris back into the present, and he took a step forward, knowing he would have to be the voice of reason here, “We’ll find you a cure for this.”

“I do not need to be cured,” The man who was not Anders said, not seeming at all troubled by their displays of emotions, “You would not understand. I am content.” 

Fenris looked up at Anders, into the mage’s eyes, and found it strange that he could never see Anders as a person until what made him himself was gone. 

He cleared his throat to draw Hawke’s attention to him, and said what he knew the other didn’t want to hear, “There is no cure. Anders would not have killed Karl if he thought there was one.”

“Then what do you suppose we do?” Hawke replied, his grief over his friend turning into anger directed at Fenris. 

“We kill him,” Fenris said simply, his voice a monotone, “I did not know him well. But I know he would not have wanted this.” 

Hawke took a breath, preparing to argue with him, then deflated, knowing Fenris was right. They both knew that Anders would have preferred death. Fenris wasn’t supposed to know, but had overheard Anders telling Hawke through the flimsy walls of the clinic. 

Anders kept looking at them with his content smile, which was made even more unsettling by the thought that there was no genuine emotion behind it. The rest of Anders’ life would be lived without genuine emotion. It was not a fate Anders would’ve wanted. 

“I will do it, I can make it quick,” Fenris said, keeping his voice without emotion. 

“Come with me,” he commanded when there was no objection, turning towards Anders. He didn’t want to look him in the eye, but knew the other deserved it with what was about to be done. He walked away from the group, knowing this couldn’t happen in the crowded hightown market place. Anders followed, remaining silent. 

Fenris turned towards the other when they were secluded enough, looking up at Anders before brushing a lock of hair from his face. The sunburst on his forehead looked too wrong, something that never should have been. 

“I… am sorry,” Fenris said, his deep voice too loud in the otherwise silent alley.

“There is no need to be sorry, Fenris. I never did hate you. I do not remember why.”

Fenris didn’t let himself react to that, moving a soft hand to Anders’ jaw and another behind his head. It wouldn’t matter in a minute, but he did not want to hurt the other more than he needed to. In a practiced motion, he pushed against Anders’ jaw then twisted his head in the other direction, the loud snap of bone echoing throughout the alley. Fenris did not let his body fall to the ground, catching the lifeless form of someone who never got the chance to become his friend, but could at least be considered a companion.

It did not fill Fenris with joy as much as he used to think it would.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this couldn't actually happen because of justice, but I was being self indulgent.


End file.
